Achromatic: A Klance Fanfiction
by TeeCxp
Summary: ach·ro·mat·ic adjective 1. relating to, employing, or denoting lenses that transmit light without separating it into constituent colors. 2. without color.
1. Chapter 1: Black is not a Color

Keith Kogane sat alone in the back of the room, a sigh escaping him as the teacher spoke on and on about...something. He didn't care enough to listen. His attention span was rather short nowadays, considering he was ignored anyway. ' _Green.'_ Keith's eyes flicked from the professor to the boy in front of him. Lotor, his bully. It wasn't as bad as a movie might make it seem. Sure, Keith was often rendered miserable and defenseless against the large jock, but he wasn't exactly a depressed mess about it either. _'Yellow.'_ Keith glanced at Matt, the boy who crushed on him in elementary before realizing that red and black were not complimentary colors. Black was not a color at all. _'Red.'_ The class was slow and took longer than Keith would have liked. He already knew everybody's' colors by memory, and yet he was going through them again. "MR. KOGANE!" Keith jumped, tuning in to hear laughter and whispers around him. How many times was his name called? "Yes, Mr. Gre, ur, Garrison?" Keith had the habit of calling people by their colors rather than their names. The professor noted the mistake, and chose to ignore it. "I want you to explain the color spectrum and how it plays a role in our society." Keith sighed. He assumed he'd chosen him due to the fact that the spectrum did not apply to him. He took a deep breath and spoke.

"The color spectrum consists of red, orange, yellow, green, blue, and purple, and the different shades of each mentioned color. One could count indigo but considering it isn't relevant majority of the time, it is added as a shade of blue. The color spectrum connects to us as people due to the color we receive at birth. Every person is born with a birthmark on their wrist that is the color that they shall be known for. For instance, yours is green. Taking this example, I can explain that society has concluded that a person's ideal match would be their complementary color. Yours would be red, no matter the gender or age, you are most compatible with red. There are, however, defects to this." The teacher flinched and instantly asked Keith to sit, he denied and continued on. "Black is not a color." He hissed as he showed his wrist. "And yet, this is the bullshit I was born with. Not only does this make it impossible for me to be compatible with someone, but it also makes me not a person. At least, according to all of you." He clenched his fist. "I personally believe the color spectrum is a load of shit. But maybe that's just me?" He scoffed and plopped into his seat with crossed arms. Everybody was quiet for a while as Keith seethed in his seat. Lotor, of course, had to ruin Keith's mood some more. His bright yellow shirt did not speak for his disgusting personality. "Yo, Kogane! I know your ideal match. The trash can." Keith scoffed and stood, grabbing his backpack. "Learn to make better insults, though it's kind of hard to take you seriously anyway with the yellow spot on your wrist. Looks like piss." He stormed out, slamming the class door. He just wanted to go home. His parents were supportive of him, they were the only ones. They loved him unconditionally, despite being disappointed by his defect.

The moment he got home, he felt something was off. He lingered on his front porch as he looked around, noticing the house beside him was missing something. "I could've sworn this house was for sale..." The sign that was on the front lawn previously had been removed, and Keith instantly groaned. "Great, more people to make fun of me." He mumbled as he unlocked his front door. He flopped onto his bed, sighing quietly as he shut his eyes. He debated on ending himself in the past, but later decided that maybe life wasn't so bad. He was wrong. It was bad.

Keith felt so alone sometimes, considering nobody else really understood him. He didn't mean to be different. The color on his wrist should not define him, but it did. It meant everything. There was no room in society for the color black, because black was not a color.

...

The familiar sound of a truck backing up woke Keith from his slumber. A moan arose from his throat as he stretched. He glanced out his window, realizing it was still early and school was not over. He stood up, looking farther out to find the source of the noise. Just next door, Keith watched as a moving truck pulled out and drove away. "Oh...the family is here." He laid down, deciding to go back to sleep and ignore the family...until he had an idea. Maybe they'd accept him if they met him first before they heard the rumors. Keith sprang up and put on his shoes. His mullet had been matted down, but that was nothing to worry about for now. He didn't have time to nitpick about it, so he just left his home to see the neighbors. His heart pounded against his rib-cage as his hand hovered over the doorbell. _'Maybe I shouldn't-'_ The door swung open to reveal a man and a woman. The woman was green, the man was red. "Er. I was about to come greet you both. I live next door. I'm Keith Kogane." His breathing was visibly uneven, and the couple could tell he was nervous. The man shook Keith's hand in order to confirm that Keith was not just wearing black to be a rebel. Nope, that was his color. His eyes widened but he simply looked Keith in the eyes. "We're the McClains, it's a pleasure to meet you." The woman said happily before questioning his attire. "Black, hm? It's not really a color. I bet you get that a lot. It's unique in my eyes. We have a son, I think you'd really like him. He's around your age. We were about to leave to buy groceries, he's inside unpacking. Go on in and say hi." She smiled and Keith's nerves went away, but reappeared at the thought of being judged by someone his age. _'A son?'_ The McClains walked away and Keith walked inside the home. "Uh..hello? Your parents said to..." He trailed off, hearing a familiar song by Muse playing over a speaker. Keith followed the sound, arriving in a room full of boxes and a small, dancing boy. "Excuse me?" The boy jumped, turning to look at Keith. Instantly, they both froze. Keith knew why the other was rendered speechless, most people were when they met Keith. But for Keith, this was a new feeling. The boy that stood in front of him did not wear the colors of the spectrum, but instead, he wore a plain white shirt.

And as if that weren't enough, the mark on his wrist was a beautiful splotch of white.

 _'But white is not a color.'_


	2. Chapter 2: Guardian Angel

Keith had a lot running through his mind in the moment. He was staring at someone just like him. Keith was incredibly flustered, and he could not pull his thoughts together. He blinked, but that was pretty much all he did. Who was this kid and why was he also a nonexistent color? Keith repeatedly thought over what he was going to say, considering he was just staring at the terrified kid. _'Hi, I'm Keith. We're both freaks!'_ No, he knew that wouldn't work. _'I see you're kind of like me...'_ Keith disliked that idea as well. After what felt like hours, but was merely seconds, Keith just blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "What the fuck?" _'Way to go, Keith.'_

Surprisingly, the pale male in front of him giggled, covering his face as it reddened with embarrassment. The action surprised Keith, causing a pink tint to appear upon his cheeks. "S-sorry, I was just-" The male in front of him cut him off, shaking his head and laughing. He moved his hands, revealing a smile that would make anybody's heart skip a beat. Including Keith's. "No! No, it's okay. I get it. You're black. Your color, I mean, not your skin...uh..." He stuck out his hand, the white splotch barely visible due to his sleeve, but large enough to see. "My name is Lance. Been a while since I had to introduce myself." Keith felt awful the moment Lance spoke. He had just realized that Lance has probably been through the same things as he did, and now would be teased at his new school. Keith stuck out his hand, looking Lance in the eye. He was instantly entranced by their bright blue color. "My name is Keith Kogane." He smiled, which was rare, and looked around the plain room. "Why'd you move here?" Keith questioned, expecting an immediate answer. He could tell Lance was the excitable type, so he knew he probably loved to talk. Surprisingly, Lance said nothing. He sat on his bed, his eyes down. "I, we, moved because of me. It's personal. But, hey!" He smiled again. "It's amazing to find someone else who isn't a part of the-"

There was a shatter coming for the outside. Keith glanced towards his home to find an array of colors in front of his home. His bedroom window was shattered, and fireworks were in their hands. "No!" He shouted, sprinting from the room and out the door. Lance followed, assuming Keith would need some help. Keith arrived as the fireworks were thrown into his home. He shoved past them and into the home, leaving them to laugh at their prank. Again, Lance followed, leaving the others dumbfounded. "Keith! Hey, I hope that's all they-" He was approaching the room that Keith had just ran into, assuming he would just help clean some broken glass. Lance was not aware of the fireworks. He was confused when Keith ran out, pulling Lance to the floor, and shielding him in his chest.

The fireworks went off, not only destroying parts of Keith's room, but also setting off the fire alarm in their home. Lance was terrified, yet he felt safe as Keith shielded any flying sparks and debris from hitting him. It felt like forever had passed when they stopped. Lance opened his eyes when the noise ceased. All he could hear now was the laughing of the bullies outside and the slamming of Keith's heart against his ear. Pulling away from his chest, Lance stood and helped Keith up. "I'm sorry about your room." He looked inside, seeing traces of what used to be posters and figurines. "I'm sure we can replace it all, Keith. I'll help, it-" He was cut off as Keith walked into his room, picking up a particular object. It was a glass figure that was given to Keith by his brother, the only person who didn't even seem moderately bothered by his lack of a color. The man had started college, giving Keith the figure to remember him when he wasn't home. Keith didn't know why the man gave it to him, or what it was for, but he treasured it. Now that it was broke, rage was all that surged through him. Shoving past Lance, Keith sprinted from his home and to the front lawn, spotting the familiar yellow shirt and instantly swinging. Lance came down just as Keith's fist connected with Lotor, and the sound he made was one of pure shock.

Keith didn't expect to win that fight, but his rage fueled him to continue it anyway. He was surrounded and outnumbered, leaving him to punch and kick at various bodies. He was trapped in a sea of color, and he was just a black speck. His adrenaline rush began to disperse, and the punches they threw began to take a toll on him. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, and breathing began to become difficult.

Kicking him in the back of his leg, Keith fell to his knees with a groan. Their legs connected with his body, forcing all remaining air in his lungs to be pushed out. This wasn't the first time they'd done this, so he didn't struggle too much. What he was not expecting was the meek words of another boy to disrupt their fun. "Hey, leave him alone!" Lance stood, his fist clenched and his bright eyes growing more intense by the second. "Don't be stupid-" Keith was kicked again, this time in his ribs, basically forcing him to shut up. "So, there's another piece of shit roaming the streets." Lotor smirked as he spoke, making Lance flinch at the word that was used to describe him. "Look, I'm warning you. Leave him alone or-" The boys left Keith alone, and were instantly backing Lance into a wall. "Or what? Hm? Would you rather take his beating?" Lance was silent. "That's what I thought. So keep your mouth shut before we turn that white shirt, red. Got it?" Keith chuckled, pushing himself up just a bit. He knew that nobody would truly save him, he wasn't expecting anyone to. He was glad Lance tried, however, and he was prepared for the group to continue their torture. Oddly enough, that moment never came.

Before Keith knew it, there was a scream. Opening his eyes, despite them being shut from the excruciating pain, Keith watched the scene unfold. Lance had hidden a firework behind his back, and used it to his advantage. Lotor was their ultimate downfall. Considering he was so loud, nobody heard the hissing of the lit firework. They were surprised when Lance threw it on the ground, just as it went on. He suffered a few burns to his hands in the process, but that didn't compare to the pain they were in from the sparks of the glorious firework. Running to grab Keith, Lance left them to scream out of terror and mild pain. Normally, Lance kept to himself, but Keith was a special case. How often would he meet another like him? Hoisting Keith up, Lance forced him to run into his home, and locked the door. Keith collapsed against the door almost instantly, and his vision darkened. His injuries were nothing major, but they were enough to send his body into a frenzy. While his heart raced in his chest, his breathing slowed. Lance didn't notice this at first, he just worked at making sure everything in Keith's home was locked. It was when he came back that he saw Keith's fight for consciousness. The brown-eyes boy had a weird smile on his face, and he laughed softly. "Your color is white because you're an angel." Lance laughed a bit, but it ceased the moment Keith's body went limp.

"Keith?"


	3. Chapter 3: Open Doors

Lance stared at the lump on the couch, practically drowning in ice packs. He'd found some in the freezer, and figured he would help out with Keith's wounds before he woke up.

It had been a few hours. The crowd outside had gone long ago, figuring out with time that they couldn't get inside. Not without doing further damage to the home, at least. Lance didn't know what more he could do for Keith, honestly. He just met the guy, and was now in his living room, nursing his wounds. It wasn't an odd situation in his eyes, but more like something that wouldn't happen without reason.

Life was strange.

Lance gently scratched at the gauze covering his own hand, tempted to pull it off and claw at the fresh wounds. The firework had burned his hand, leaving a patch of exposed pink flesh and blood. It wasn't bad, and was definitely worth it. Keith wouldn't have died, but his injuries could have been a lot more severe had Lance decided not to step in.

"You're gonna irritate it-"

Lance jumped at the sudden words, head swirling quick enough to give him whiplash. He glanced at the boy on the couch, blue orbs meeting brown ones. "It's fine. I found medical tools in your bathroom. I cleaned it up." He paused, trying to read Keith in the instance. "How do you feel?" He wasn't sitting on the couch, since Keith had been left to rest there, but was actually sitting on the floor, back against it. He stood up, now sitting on the arm of the sofa.

"You fainted. It scared me. It was like you'd gotten sick all of a sudden." Keith's body had gotten hot, leaving him sweaty and out of breath. It had just been the stress of the fight, but Lance was unaware of that at the time.

Keith scoffed softly, pushing himself up slowly. He was sore beyond belief, but the ice packs had already worked wonders. "I've been beaten worse than that before. That's the price to pay when you're something that shouldn't exist." Keith noticed Lance's hand glide to his wrist and involuntarily cover the white patch when he said it, and felt instantly bad.

It would take getting used to. Keith forgot he was no longer alone in this. There was someone like him. But why hadn't he been on the news or broadcasted on social media?

"Had you heard of me before you moved?" Keith spoke softly, the topic touchy for both of them. He didn't want to push his luck. Lance laughed softly, looking down. "Who hasn't heard of you? Though I always thought of it as some weird propaganda. Ya know, showing what it's like to disobey human nature. It made no sense. It's not like it would be your fault if you /did/ disobey it and were born slightly different." His tone had changed, making the pain and anger he'd felt obvious. "Anyway, yeah, I heard of you. I just thought it was fake."

Keith nodded softly. "Ah."

There was silence for a long time, gears turning in his head. He was trying to figure out the best way to word his next question. He preferred not to upset Lance, though it was most likely inevitable with the topic.

"Depression." Lance randomly mumbled, causing Keith to raise a brow. "Excuse me?" Keith wasn't sure how to take that, and was confused. The ravenette chuckled softly, scratching at the gauze again. "I got depressed. By middle school, I came to terms with how alone I'd always be. It was escalating pretty fast, but no therapist would take me. I used to be in papers, but as I got worst, I started to look worse. They didn't want to document me then." He laughed bitterly, as if this was just yesterday. Though by judging Lance's current appearance, it seemed that he had fought off the overwhelming sadness. At least, for now.

"My parents said moving here would help. I didn't know why. They probably knew you lived here. The other kid just like me." He was saying it in a goofy way, but Keith was well aware that it was a coping mechanism. Lance didn't want to make it into a large deal, despite it being one.

Keith didn't say much at first, he just took in the story. The only real difference was their ways of coping. Keith's depression consisted of snapping at anyone who dared to challenge him, while Lance's was more of an absolute plunge into existentialism. Ironic, considering that was something Keith usually did.

"Thanks for standing up for me. Though if you know what's good for you, you'd stay away. They may think of you as an abomination, but you're sweet. You could make friends. Me, on the other hand, cannot. I pick fights. I make enemies. Hanging with me is equivalent to a one star rating at a hotel, and I would not recommended staying." Lance snorted at the odd analogy, shaking his head softly.

"I'd much rather be friends with you and enemies with everyone else than be friends with everyone else and have to hate you." He knew how that worked. Being allowed in a circle meant abiding by the group's beliefs and opinions. A difference in perspective made you more of an outsider than you might have been before.

"You just met me. Why put yourself on the line for one guy? Fate is a myth. Fate is what brought you to me, but also what got my ass kicked out there. I like to believe that I could have altered that. Fate is unchangeable. Your life is written out for you from the moment you're born, and there's nothing to be done about it. I don't agree. I feel that our exchange could have been avoided, so why do you just blindly follow this supposed fate when you could push your life in any direction you choose? Why would you want to look out for a guy that you've supposedly met because the universe decided it be so?"

Lance was silent for a moment, and Keith soon felt that he'd said something wrong. That was until Lance smiled, blue eyes sparkling with determination as he spoke.

"The universe presented me with the door, but I'm the one who decided to open it."


	4. NOT AN UPDATE

Hi 2 small things.

The chances of me updating this are very very very low but it doesn't mean I ever will.

The chances of me updating it HERE? Now that is a big fat 0%.

So to possibly read this in the future (or to see works I WILL actually finish) then head over to my ao3 account!

/users/MentallyIndecisive


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